


the past is not lost

by halcyonskies



Series: 100Themes: Dean/Cas [78]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Gen, Next (Next) Generation, Past Character Death, Reminiscing, a little sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:43:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5190872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyonskies/pseuds/halcyonskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's not a Winchester by name or blood, but damn if she's not going to preserve the ones that gave her husband and his siblings all those good memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the past is not lost

**Author's Note:**

> 100Themes Challenge - #46: Photo

“Grandma, who’s this?”

Bridgit turned to her granddaughter with an indulgent smile already pulling at her lips, but she paused when she saw the old photographs in Calliope’s hands. She knew, even before she’d moved closer, exactly who was featured on most of them.

Abandoning his own perusing of the overflowing box of Barbies a few feet away, Thorn joined them on the floor, leaning over his sister’s shoulder to get a better look. “Hey, that looks like Grandpa!”

Bridgit smiled, a little sadly, and gingerly took one of the photos from Calliope’s sticky fingers. Actual printed photographs were a little outdated these days; more and more people were making use of HoloFrames, hanging pictures that moved like films. But Bridgit appreciated the stationary nature of photographs – seeing a wall full of HoloFrames had always made her a bit dizzy, and her own home boasted very few of them.

“So, who _is_ it, Grandma?” Calliope chirped again, a little more impatient this time.

“Well, these are your great _great_ grandparents,” she explained, and pointed to the laughing man with a fringe of dark bangs hanging over his forehead. “That’s Castiel. Grandpa Matt does look a lot like him, doesn’t he?”

“It’s kind of scary, actually,” Thorn mumbled, thumbing through the stack of photographs. Flipping one over, he read out loud, “August 12th, 2024: Cas and Dean at Camphor Park. Wow, these really are old.”

“So this is Great-Great Grandpa Dean?” Calliope indicated the other man in the picture, the ash-blond with the smiling green eyes. Where Bridgit’s memories of slate gray hair and a weathered, world-weary face were all she had left of this man, the photographs painted him young and vibrant and full of life. The love he had for his husband was obvious as well, shining clearly through his eyes. She thought, a little melancholily, that it would have been nice to have seen such a thing in real life; by the time she’d met Matt’s family, Castiel had been gone and Dean had been much more reserved than the person Matt had grown up with.

“Yep! And _this–”_ Bridgit flipped through the stack until she came to one that pictured a third man. “–is your Great-Great Uncle Sam. Those three were very close, you know.” Sam had also been a widower by the time she’d gotten to know him, but where grief had made Dean quiet, withdrawn, Sam had been perfectly happy to stay right in the thick of his family’s affairs.

They’d both been good, kind men, and seeing these photographs forgotten up in this dusty attic made something in her heart ache. She decided that, after they were done clearing this place out, she’d take these pictures and find a home for some of them on her wall. At the very least, they deserved a photo album to rest in.

“C’mon, you two – back to work!” Bridgit ordered, ruffling their hair to take the sting out of her abrupt words. 


End file.
